


Breaking Through - Holiday Special

by breakingthrough



Series: Breaking Through [2]
Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Actors, Adoption, Beards (Facial Hair), Celebrities, Divorce, Established Relationship, Facial Shaving, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Gay Sex, Hollywood, M/M, Male Slash, Marriage, Married Couple, Married Life, Original Character(s), Post-Divorce, RPS - Freeform, Writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakingthrough/pseuds/breakingthrough
Summary: The Breaking Through series continues with a few chapters focusing on holidays and family.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's the most wonderful time of the year: when we get to write holiday chapters and have fun doing it. I hope you enjoy.

Armie tossed his apple core a few yards to his left, watching as it fell to the grass, landing at the base of a tree. He smiled and slid his hands into his pockets. Chris walked a few paces ahead and Euan was a few more ahead of him. Chris had a bucket in one hand, filled almost to the top with apples, and a coffee in the other. Armie snapped a photo on his phone and chuckled. How much more basic could he be? Apple picking, his husband wearing a cable-knit sweater and his son bounding ahead of them — it was like a stock photo that came with picture frames. But he couldn't get enough of it, either.

"I think we got enough, kiddo," Chris said. "We're not going to be able to eat all of these as it is."

"We can make cider," Armie said. "I've still got an empty bucket."

"Then you can hold this one," Chris said, turning on his heels and handing Armie his bucket.

Armie leaned down and kissed him, tasting a tiny bit of milky coffee, and ran his fingers over the back of Chris' neck. "I'll hold it."

"Are you going to carry him when he's exhausted, too?" Chris asked, motioning over to where Euan was perched on a stepladder. He was reaching for another apple, pulling it from a low-hanging branch.

"I can handle that," Armie said as they caught up to him. Euan offered up his newest pick and Chris set it into Armie's bucket. They'd have more than an hour to get back the house and hopefully Euan would fall asleep. Chris was hoping he'd be able to get a nap himself. 

"What's apple butter?" Euan asked. "It was in the store."

"It's like jelly, but it's apples," Chris said. "We can get some if you want to try it."

"Can we make it with these apples?" Euan asked.

"We're making cider with this bucket," Armie said. "And this other bucket is for eating."

"Are we sharing with Caleb?" Euan asked.

"We can ask if he wants some," Armie said. He was almost certain that Robbie and Greg were busy — they were always busy — but he could send a quick message. Caleb was having problems at school making friends. He told the teachers that Euan was his best friend, which meant he didn't need any other friends. Robbie wanted to make sure he socialized with other kids, but rarely said no to get together. The kids already saw each other every day at school and then again at soccer practice once a week and their Saturday afternoon soccer game. 

The schedule would seem tedious to any parent, but Chris reveled in the routine. He loved seeing everything on the calendar, loved having it planned out so far in advance. He worked his own schedule around Euan's and while Armie tried his best, his projects sometimes got in the way of seeing every practice or making every school meeting. But he tried. After Euan entered the picture, Armie tried his best not to have late nights on set, to limit how much he'd have to travel, and focused more on production. If Barb found him a script, he'd always audition, but knowing that he had a kid at home made it easier to say no to things. 

"What about Sebastian?" Euan added.

"We can share with anyone you want," Chris said. "It's nice of you to think of other people."

Euan smiled and Armie pulled him up into his arms. "How are you so great when your dads are the worst?"

"You're not the worst," Euan said, squirming in Armie's arms to get back on the ground. "You're the best dads."

A few minutes later, they'd made their way back to the farm's barn, where Euan watched his apples get pressed into a bright amber cider. He was entranced, his eyes wide and his hand squeezing Chris' tight as he watched the whole process. Chris couldn't help but take note of everything that Euan found interesting. At six years old, it was just about everything other than Brussels sprouts, but his life basically revolved around soccer, which Chris was sure he'd gotten into because of Robbie's encouragement, and anything remotely mechanical. Robots, machines, even the toaster; anything that looked like it had gears or circuit boards fascinated him. Armie had to keep reminding Chris that the kid was still a kid, but that never stopped Chris from wondering exactly what passions he'd pursue.

"Are you going to be at the game this Saturday?" Chris asked. "It's our turn to bring water and orange slices."

"I'm going to try," Armie said. "The call sheet says everything should be done by noon."

"So, 4 o' clock?" Chris joked. 

"I'll get there," Armie said as he grabbed their glass jug of cider and screwed a top onto it. Euan beamed with pride when he saw his dad and his cider. 

"Good job, Euan," Chris said, smiling. "Ready to go home?"

"Will you be goalie when we get home?"

"Maybe just for a little bit, okay?" Armie said. "We have to go to grandma's house tonight."

"We should bring her some apples," Chris suggested. "Maybe a jar of apple butter."

"Grandma's fine," Armie said. "We'll just bring flowers like we always do."

Like clockwork, Armie drove home listening to the soothing, even tone of Terry Gross' voice as his husband and son slept in their respective seats. By the time they'd gotten home, the cider was in the refrigerator, and the bounty of apples sitting in a bowl, Euan and changed into his soccer gear and was kicking a ball around in the driveway. Chris stood in front of his miniature goal, shuffling from side to side as Euan did his best to curl the ball past him.

"Did you have fun at the orchard?" Chris asked.

"Yes," Euan said, his eyes focused on the ball. "Did you?"

"Yeah, of course," Chris said. "I always have fun when we're together."

"Was dad having fun?" Euan asked, his arms pumping in the air as he scored a goal.

"Yeah, he loves spending time with you, too."

"He needs a nap," Euan said matter-of-factly. "He's cranky."

Chris chuckled. "He's tired. He's...busy with work. He'll be hanging out with us more soon." He tapped the ball back over to Euan, who dribbled it a few yards and shot again.

"You guys done out here?" Armie asked from the front door. "We need to get going soon."

"One more kick, buddy," Chris said.

"Try to block it this time," Euan demanded. Chris squatted down, his hands up. The goal was so small that he basically blocked the entire thing, but Euan struck the ball right between his legs, clapping and jumping up and down. Armie smiled and scooped him up, holding him up in the air. 

"Are you going to do that tomorrow?" Armie asked, tossing Euan in the air and eliciting shouts and giggles. "Let's get you changed. You can tell grandma all about your game last week."

"Maybe don't tell her about the tackle you tried," Chris said. "You're not like Robbie or David Beckham just yet."

Time, in addition to the experience of having Euan, made weekly dinners less of a chore. Chris would never say that he looked forward to them, but by now, he'd accepted them as a fact of life. It was a meal he didn't have to think about and now that Euan was there, Dru had someone else to focus on. He'd softened her, Chris noticed. Having Euan around changed everyone. Chris had no idea how much he'd enjoy being a dad. Instead of constant fear, it was just a quiet, near-constant stress combined with moments of pure joy. Now that Euan was a kid and not a toddler, both Chris and Armie relaxed a little. They'd survived. They'd actually thrived.

Dru spent most dinners talking to Euan. He got his charm from Armie. Rarely shy and always ready to have a conversation, he was great at dinner. 

"It's bittersweet," Chris said when Dru asked him about the show ending. After three seasons, it was time. He didn't know how he kept coming up with ideas for a teenage drama, but he managed to give the writing team enough to work with. The show was a hit in its target demographic, but didn't really get much attention otherwise. That was fine, Chris always thought. His books weren't for everyone. A show that was based on one of his books couldn't be expected to appeal to everyone. "It's time to do something new. Write new stories."

"Teen Choice Awards don't impress the same way as an Oscar," Armie said. "But he basically gave those kids a huge career. They're huge stars now."

"Not Oscar-winning stars but they've got commercial appeal," Chris said. "It's different, but who knows? They could surprise us all."

"Grandma, this is dessert," Euan said, handing his grandmother an apple.

"Thank you, honey," she said. "It looks beautiful."

"I should be wrapping up next week," Armie said. "And then we should be sort-of normal after that. I want to be able to drop him off at school and pick him up every day."

"Who would have thought?" Chris said. "We all just want to stay home and do things that seemed so boring before."

"Kids will do that," Dru said, pulling Euan up into her lap. "And this one is so special."

"Are we getting you at Thanksgiving this year?" Dru asked.

"We might be home," Armie said. "I'll let you know."

"It's important to be with family, isn't it, Euan?" Dru said to her grandson. "Especially for the holidays."

"Ready to go, kiddo?" Chris said. "Say bye to grandma. I'll grab your dinosaur from the other room."

"Thanks for dinner, mom," Armie said. "We've got to get to bed before the game tomorrow. It's at Marine Avenue Park if you want to come."

"I wouldn't miss it," she said, smoothing down Euan's hair and giving him a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

Back at the house, Armie made sure Euan was asleep in his room before heading downstairs, joining Chris on the couch. He pulled Chris into his arms, disregarding the fact that he'd been already been looking pretty comfortable. Chris had been scribbling in his journal, outlining a few things, dumping down all the random ideas that were flying around his head and hoping to get a few concrete storylines going so he could work on another project. Armie nuzzled at his neck, mumbling something into Chris' skin.

"Should we be getting to bed, too?" Chris asked, leaning up to run his lips along Armie's stubbled jaw. "I'm exhausted."

Armie's hands ran over Chris' stomach, sliding under his sweater to feel warm skin. "He's asleep. Kept asking why none of the books we read together are your books."

"They don't have pictures," Chris said, kissing at Armie's throat. 

"Greg told me that he and Robbie haven't had sex in months," Armie said, his voice low.

"Glad we're not Greg and Robbie," Chris said turning himself on the couch to settle between Armie's legs. Their mouths came together and Armie's hands were all over Chris' back, pulling them together. Chris let out a soft laugh before pressing his forehead to Armie's. "Sure he's asleep?"

"He's out. He can sleep through anything, just like his dad."

One quick kiss and Chris was down on his knees and Armie's head was thrown back as his cock was wrapped in the moist warmth of Chris' mouth. Armie's fingers gripped at Chris' head and he heard a soft groan fall from his own lips. Months? He couldn't even think about going without this for a day.

***

Chris was always nervous when the snacks were his responsibility. No matter how often he checked the list, he was sure he'd forget something. But today, he had everything. He'd sliced more oranges than he could count, tossed dozens of water bottles into a cooler, and even made individual bags of grapes. The other parents always went all-out when they took their turns and he didn't want to look like a slacker.

Robbie helped him set up the snack table while the kids ran through their warm ups. Greg was running the exercises with another volunteer. Everyone knew their roles and fell into a well-practiced routine. Most of the families had been doing this for more than a year at this point.

"Is Armie on his way?" Robbie asked.

"Yeah. But he's coming from the valley. I don't know if he'll make it on time."

Robbie let out a soft laugh. Armie had missed almost every game so far. The season was just starting, but he'd set a bad precedent. He always said he'd try, but he'd either missed the games entirely or showed up after the final whistle. Euan had been disappointed, especially when he scored, but he seemed to understand. Daddy was doing his best.

"What about his other dad?" Robbie joked. And there it was. Running joke number two: Euan's "other dad" showed up to every game. Sebastian knew more of the other parents than Armie.

"He's already here," Chris said, motioning over to the sideline, where Sebastian was snapping photos of Euan. "We carpooled."

"Well, it's nice that Euan has three dads."

"Stop," Chris said. "Armie already feels guilty enough when he misses these games. There's no point making it worse."

A whistle blew, making both Robbie and Chris turn their heads towards the field. The game was starting. Chris gave the table one last look and decided it was fine. He and Robbie made their way to where Sebastian stood at the touchline. Dru wouldn't be coming. After everything she'd said last night, she said that her day filled up and she wouldn't be able to make it out to the west side.

"Hey," Sebastian said, pulling Chris into a hug. "So, when does he figure out if he's a defender or a striker?"

"As far as he's concerned, he's a striker," Chris said. "He hates the idea of being a defender."

"It's not so bad," Robbie said. "But I can tell he wants the attention."

"Table looks good," Sebastian said. "I was heading over to help, but Euan was going to try and do a bicycle kick and I had to talk him out of it."

"I appreciate that," Chris said. "I didn't want to go to the emergency room today."

Together, they watched as the kids played. More like controlled chaos than anything resembling actual soccer, it was about getting the players to run around and have fun, not actual scoring. Of course, with a ex-pro in the audience the other parents felt a little bit of pressure, but it was obvious the kids didn't care. They were six, after all.

"I remember when you'd freak out every time he sneezed. Now he's running into other kids and you don't even flinch," Robbie said. "He's more resilient than I thought."

"Is there a pizza party after this? Is that today or next week?" Sebastian asked. Before he could even reach for his phone, Caleb passed the ball to Euan, who clumsily dribbled the ball and shot for the goal, a look of concentration on his face. Without a goalie -- those wouldn't come into play until the kids turned 9 -- the ball bounced right in. Cheers erupted, from the kids and the parents, and Euan looked right over to Chris and Sebastian, a look of pride and accomplishment on his face. He froze for a split second and dropped to his knees, throwing his arms in the air just like he saw the players do on YouTube. He was, at least in his mind, David Beckham or Leo Messi.

"What a ham," Chris said, clapping. He wanted to rush over and hug him, but rules were rules. Parents stayed on the sidelines. 

Sebastian had recorded the whole thing, but he gave Chris' shoulder a firm squeeze. There would be plenty to celebrate today and they were sure that they'd be hearing about it for days to come. "That was...something," Chris said, smiling. "Not pretty, but a goal is a goal."

"We're not keeping score," Sebastian reminded him. "But you know they are. What's that, his second one this season?"

"Third. I'm sure he's keeping count, too," Chris said.

The rest of the game was less exciting, but the kids didn't care. The half-hour was up before anyone realized, oranges were devoured in no time at all, and everything was cleaned up just as Armie pulled into the parking lot.

"I scored!" Euan said, trotting up to his dad. Having been the star of the game, he got to keep the ball.

Armie pulled Euan into a hug, "I'm sorry I missed it again. I really am."

"It's okay, dad said that we're going to get frozen yogurt now and I can show you."

Chris leaned up and gave Armie a quick kiss. "Sebastian got it on his phone. He can send it to you."

"Thanks," Armie said, his jaw tightening as he surveyed the empty field. He gave a weak wave to the other parents, who were loading up their cars and congratulating their own children. "I can take the cooler."

"It's fine," Sebastian said.

"I can take it," Armie insisted, grabbing it. "Euan, did your friend River get to play today?"

"He did. Caleb did," Euan paused for a second. "

"Did you have a good time?" Armie asked.

"Yes," Euan said. He was still smiling.

"That's what matters," Armie said.

"Change your shoes, kiddo," Chris said, handing him a pair of regular sneakers before they reached the parking lot. Euan did as he was told, stopping to carefully pull off his cleats and slide into his street shoes. He dutifully tied the shoestrings together and let his soccer shoes hang from his shoulder, just the way he saw the pros do it.

"Yogurt time?" Sebastian asked, kneeling down to help tie Euan's shoelaces. "You did really good out there today. Your passing is getting a lot better."

"Can we practice more when we get home?" Euan asked.

"Let's take a break," Chris said. "Maybe when we get home we can get cleaned up and maybe you can do something inside."

"We can work on that puzzle on the big table," Armie suggested.

"Can I get chocolate?"

"You want to change, Euan? I have a clean jersey for you in the car."

He shook his head and reached for Armie's hand. "Do you want to see it now? 'Bastian can you show daddy?"

"Sure," Sebastian said, handing his phone over.

They stopped by Chris' car, where Armie set the cooler down and knelt down so that he and Euan could watch it together.

"He looks more like you than ever," Sebastian said. It was true, since Euan had darker hair than Armie and his eyes were brown. Everyone knew that any similarity would just be a coincidence, but it was still something a lot of people pointed out.

"You want to come with us?" Chris asked. "I can drop you off if you have something to do."

"Are you kidding? I cleared out the whole day. I knew AYSO Region 20 would win. They really need to get a mascot or something. Region 20 is really...I don't know. Do they even have a marketing team?"

"That's a no," Chris said. "Everyone is a volunteer. They wanted Armie to be a coach. I don't even know where the dues go."

"Thanks, Sebastian," Armie said, handing him his phone back. "Send it to me when you get a chance."

"I will. Should we all meet there? We're going to the one on Lincoln, right?"

"By the sushi place," Chris said. "You want to ride with daddy, Euan? We'll see you there in a few minutes."

"I want to go with you," he said, bouncing the ball a few times. 

"Okay, get in the car with Sebastian and we'll all see daddy there."

Chris wrapped his arm around Armie's waist and kissed him softly. "See you in a few minutes."

Things had changed. Of course they did, Chris always said. They had a kid. That meant that there'd be toys in the house, it meant that they'd have to find a babysitter if they had to do something for work or even go out for dinner. It meant that now, Chris had to think about Euan before he made almost every decision. Could he offer a quote for another author's book? It depended on whether or not he could read a book between working on his own and making sure Euan got a nap after school. Could Armie film an overnight? Yes, but not if it meant putting him out of commission the next day. If he slept through a Saturday and missed out on everything he loved about spending time with his son and his husband, he'd always consider rescheduling. But now, with Euan in kindergarten and both Chris and Armie slowly finding their ways into new routines, things were in limbo more often than not.

Chris straightened up Euan's room as he got into bed, the day's excitement having taken its toll. While he never really put up a fight at bedtime, he'd never turn down the chance to have one more book read to him or another few minutes downstairs. The guestroom had transformed into a nursery and then into a proper bedroom, with light wood furniture and bins full of dinosaurs and rockets.

"Is daddy going to work tomorrow?"

"No, he's going to be with us all day," Chris said, sitting down on Euan's twin-sized bed. He rearranged a few of the plush toys that sat against the wall. A dinosaur, a shark, and Euan's favorite, a bear that he'd gotten from his grandmother. It usually ended up in various spots all over the house as he carried it from room to room. "Did you miss him?"

"He missed me."

Chris got up and smoothed the blanket down, making sure everything was set just right. "You'll have plenty of time with him tomorrow. Do you want the star light on?"

Euan nodded and reached for his teddy bear. Chris switched on the lamp, which shot a pattern of stars up onto the ceiling, before he shut off the lights. The room was dimly lit by the stars, which turned slowly throughout the night. It was pretty magical, Chris thought every time he turned it on.

"I love you, kiddo," Chris said softly as he shut the door.

"I love you, dad."

Chris leaned against the closed for a few moments, making sure that there wasn't any commotion in Euan's room. There never was, but if there was any chance that he'd need something, Chris wanted to be there just in case.

"Everything okay?" Armie whispered as he stepped out of the master bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. He was holding a T-shirt, but made no effort to put it on when he realized Euan was already in bed.

Chris nodded. "Tired?"

"I'm going downstairs. You want anything?"

"I'll go with you," Chris said, running his hand down Armie's arm. He held onto Armie's hand as they walked downstairs and Chris watched the Armies' shoulder and bicep flex as they walked. Armie walked straight to the back door, but Chris let his hand go as soon as they stepped into the kitchen. He poured Armie two fingers of scotch as he watched the back doors slide open and the smell of ocean and eucalyptus blew in. He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water for himself and headed to the patio. Armie had put the T-shirt on and was reclining on the outdoor sofa.

"Thanks," he said as Chris handed him the lowball glass. "C'mere."

Armie pulled him down and they settled against each other, with Armie's hand running lazy circles over Chris' stomach. "I'm not missing any more games. I talked to production. This can't happen anymore."

"You're almost done," Chris said. "The more days you take off, the longer the movie will take."

"It's fine," Armie said. "I missed his goal. I want to see those things. I'm his dad."

"Dads have to work sometimes, I don't think you'll be giving him deep-rooted issues if you miss a soccer game."

Armie kissed the top of Chris' head. "I wanted to be coach. It sounds stupid, but I wanted to coach those kids and I missed the meeting. And I missed so many of his games. I know what the other parents think."

Chris put his hand on top of Armie's and closed his eyes, letting out a yawn. "He'll love having you there. He's always smiling when he's out there."

"I know. That's why I can't not be there."

"He's so big now," Chris said, his lips on Armie's neck. "Make it stop."

Armie chuckled. Nobody was more surprised than he was at how quickly Chris had taken to parenthood. After what felt like an eternity of trepidation and reluctance, it all happened in the span of three days and Chris had no choice but to embrace it. Seeing it all happen made Armie fall in love all over again. And now that Euan was past the wailing and screaming and tantrums and mellowed out, things were better all around.

"I don't want to be like my dad was. He was never around. I'm going to be there for him."

"Your dad wasn't a movie star," Chris said. "He's lucky to have a dad that can be with him 24 hours a day for months at a time. The few times you're not there don't discount all the time you do spend with him."

"It's easier for you to say that," Armie said. "You two are inseparable."

"I'm going to fall asleep out here," Chris said, his voice quiet.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Armie said, kissing at Chris' forehead. 

Armie woke up the next morning in what was supposed to be an empty bed. Chris went on his morning run as soon as he woke up, which meant it wasn't unusual for Armie to have the king-sized bed to himself. But today, there was a lump at the foot of the bed, a Euan-shaped lump under a throw blanket.

Armie reached for him and pulled him up, eliciting a fit of giggles and halfhearted squirming. "You know your dad doesn't like when you sneak into bed like this."

"He's not here."

"Do you want to get under the covers?"

Euan scrambled to get under the fluffy down comforter, instantly curling up into a ball with his head on Chris' pillow. Armie ran his fingers through Euan's hair and smiling at the quiet moment. "You used to sleep in our bed, do you remember?"

"I wasn't afraid like you thought," Euan explained. "I like your bed better. It's jumpier."

"Your dad's all about the rules, you know that. Are you still sleepy?"

"No," Euan said. He'd just worked out a system. He could hear Chris open and shut the front door, no matter how quiet he thought he was being. From there, he knew he could sneak into the master bedroom, pull the cashmere throw blanket from where it always sat, perfectly folded, on the bench at the foot of his dads' bed, and get comfortable, whether it was on that bench or on the bed. Without Chris there, he knew he could get away with it.

"Should we head down for breakfast?"

"Not yet," Euan said. "Can we watch cartoons?"

"Of course we can," Armie said. He reached into his night table and fished the remote out. In no time at all, "Ducktales" was playing and Euan was rapt, his eyes as wide as his smile as he watched the animated ducks. He was nestled up beside Armie, partly to make sure his dad wasn't going anywhere and partly because it was comfortable.

"Do you want me to make you pancakes?" Armie asked.

Euan shrugged, indifferent.

"Do you want waffles?"

"Yes," Euan said, sitting up in bed. "Waffles."

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Yes."

"Let's do it one more time before we make waffles for you and your dad."

Armie set Euan up on a stool and go to work in the kitchen. With his notebook and a few markers, he was content and occupied while Armie prepared breakfast. A quick glance at the clock let Armie know that he had at least 20 minutes before Chris came through the front door and a few more if he took a quick shower. Plenty of time.

"Are you drawing?" Armie asked. He put a glass of milk in front of Euan and half a banana. Armie ate the other half while he pulled another waffle off of the iron.

"I'm drawing a boat."

"Like the ones we saw in Santa Barbara?"

Euan nodded, focusing on the task at hand. Like his dad, he could zero in on one thing and have the rest of the world melt away. It was fascinating. Armie could watch it all day.

"Are you still interrupting your teacher at school?"

Euan looked up at his dad. "I don't talk too much. I just have a lot of ideas."

"That's what your book is for. I know we talked about it. Your teacher says you need to work on knowing when you can talk."

"I tried," Euan said.

"You need to keep trying," Armie said. "Try harder, okay? Are you talking to Caleb or other kids?"

"Lots of people," Euan said.

The two of them heard the front door open and shut and the quiet squeaks of Chris' sneakers on the floor. "Smells good," Chris said on the way to the kitchen. He gave Armie a quick kiss, kissed the top of Euan's head, and then made his way to the sliding doors to open everything up. "It's beautiful outside. Should we go to the farmers' market after breakfast?"

"Did you have a good run?" Armie asked. Chris sat down at the counter, rubbing Euan's back and watching as Armie poured him a mug of coffee.

"It was great. Did you two have a good morning? Cartoons and cuddles?"

Armie's eyes met Euan's and they both smiled.

***

Chris watched as Euan set this backpack into his cubby and sat down in front of the white board with the other kids. After lingering in the doorway for just a few seconds longer, he turned on his heels and walked toward the car. Morning drop-offs were easy now that he'd gone through it so many times — and having a book to work on helped the separation anxiety, too. He'd proposed two to David, hoping one would stand out. David got back to him, saying that they were both good, but not great. They both needed more development, to have their plots fleshed out and characters cleaned up. It was up to Chris to choose which one to go with. 

It was a quick drive to the coffee shop and once he'd ordered a cortado and a croissant, he opened his laptop and go to work. Reading, writing, re-writing, and reading again — by now, it was automatic. The one book he'd released in the years since Euan had entered their lives got good reviews, but Chris wasn't completely satisfied with it. But he couldn't think of any way to make it better, either, so he'd sent it off and hoped for the best. 

This time around, he wasn't going to let it happen again. Without his back up against a deadline, he had a little more time and he was set on crafting a story that stood out from anything he'd ever written. That was especially tough, since he'd made a career out of experimenting with different things. The only common denominator was the way that he wrote characters that were relatable. Even critics of his work — and there were plenty of them — commended him for it. From the characters themselves to the dialogue, it was something people paid attention to.

"What's this one called?"

Chris looked up from his screen. "The Patriot's Son."

"You're not helping your case. They already say you only write about your own life."

"One of my professors told me that every work of fiction is a thinly veiled autobiography," Chris said. "My life isn't interesting enough to write about."

"The tabloids would say otherwise."

"I'm sorry that Armie snapped at you," Chris said.

"Don't worry about it," Sebastian said. "I get where he was coming from. It has to be frustrating."

"He doesn't lose his temper very often, so it's extra weird when it happens."

"It probably didn't help that they asked me to coach the team."

"No, that definitely didn't help." Sebastian reached over and grabbed the last bit of Chris' croissant, popping it in his mouth. "Thanks for saying no. It would have killed him."

Sebastian let out a low chuckle. Armie may have radiated nothing but charm and confidence, but there were some things that made him crack. Euan was one of them.

"Is this a sad one? A happy one?"

"Is it ever just one or the other?"

"Good point."

Chris glanced up at the corner of his laptop. He'd been writing for an hour. He started packing up and Sebastian went to the counter to order to more coffees to go. By the time Chris had everything put into his backpack, Sebastian had a cup in each hand and the headed to the car. While they used to jog together, having to shuttle Euan to school meant that Chris had to fit his workout in before. But it worked out, because Sebastian could finish his circuit and run to the coffee shop so that they could still meet up. Chris, who thrived on routine, managed to find one in the chaos of being a dad.

"I'm almost done," Chris said. "I think this story started way back before I even met Armie. I just didn't know how to finish it."

"You always figure it out."

"One day, I won't," Chris said.

Chris dropped Sebastian off at his house before parking in his own driveway, taking the few steps into the house and seeing Euan's miniature soccer goal sitting in the yard. It brought a smile to his face as he unlocked the front door and set everything down on the bench right by the front door. Now that the house was almost free of colorful plastic toys, it was starting to look polished again. Chris doubted they'd ever get into "Architectural Digest" ever again, but he was glad to be past the days of tripping over play mats. Now, it was about dodging Lego blocks, though Euan was getting better about making sure they got put away.

"There you are," Armie said, coming into view from the kitchen.

"What are you doing home?" Chris asked before Armie was kissing him, arms feeling Chris' back. Chris let out a soft groan at the feeling of Armie's body against his. 

"Meetings ended early," Armie said. "Skipped out on the lunch. You taste like mocha."

"I had a chocolate croissant," Chris whispered.

"Did you bring me one?"

"Sebastian ate it in the car," Chris said. Armie chuckled, pressing his forehead to Chris'. His hand ran up Chris' sides, coming around his back to press them together tighter. Chris caught his lips one more time, groaning as Armie's hands went lower, feeling his ass. 

"Upstairs," Armie said. "Now."

It was rare for Chris to take an afternoon nap, but he found himself stumbling out of bed, his ass sore and radiating a dull ache that reminded him of exactly how he'd fallen asleep. He could hear Armie downstairs and a glance at the clock let him know that Euan was with him. Chris had slept through pickup. But Armie reveled in any chance to fetch his son from school, to pay his respects to Euan's teacher, and even chat with a few of the other parents. He had to let them know that he was in the picture as much as Chris was.

"How was school today?" Chris asked, kissing the top of Euan's head and sitting down on the stool next to him.

Euan smiled and started to recount his day. Chris' eyes darted from Euan's animated storytelling to Armie's smile, which grew bigger with every word. Chris could tell that Euan had already said it all before, probably in the car with his dad. That time in the car was always special, even though it seemed so mundane. It was time without distractions.

"Do you want to stay here for Thanksgiving?" Armie asked, not addressing Chris or Euan specifically.

Chris looked over at Armie, waiting for some sort of clarification.

"Grandma wants us to." There it was.

"What do you want to do?" Chris asked, making it clear that he was asking Armie, not Euan.

"She invited us. We're stuck."


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you looking at?" Armie asked, leaning back and crossing his legs, his ankle resting on his knee.

Chris' eyes darted over Armie's shoulder to see the colored lights swirling and spinning around, the sound of bowling balls rolling down hardwood and the unmistakable crash and scramble of the pins. "When was the last time you were at a bowling alley?"

"How long have we been together?"

"A long time," Chris said.

"Then it's been a very long time since I've been to a bowling alley."

Chris watched the lights play across Armie's features. He was undeniably handsome and the dim lighting only made that fact more apparent. It was late, so the alley had transformed into a makeshift nightclub, but it was far from what anyone would consider cool. The crowd was a mix of families and older groups of friends who looked like they came regularly, regardless of the disco lights and loud music. Chris wanted to go for research, he said. He needed to be surrounded by Americana and nostalgia. The bowling alley was the perfect place. Nothing inside looked like it had been updated since 1988. Everything from the equipment to the furniture looked stuck in a different time. 

"Are we going to keep playing?"

"I've only gotten gutter balls. I think I'm done," Chris said. He sat back in his chair and just watched Armie smile and survey their surroundings. He looked down at his rented shoes.

"You think he's freaking out?" Armie asked. "I can tell you are."

"I'm not," Chris said. "It's weird to think he won't be home when we get there. That's all."

"When was the last time you went bowling?"

"Junior high. It looked just like this. How do these even stay open?"

Armie shrugged. "I guess they manage. What are you going to write about?"

Chris looked over at the check-in counter, where a teenage girl was handing out shoes. Over at the concession stand, more teenagers were doling out hot dogs and burgers. Chris didn't know what he was going to write about, but this environment, the fact that this place was stuck in time, that was what he wanted to explore. "I have no idea. This place is just so amazing, even though it seems mundane. There's so much going on. It's a lot of material."

Armie surveyed the scene, wondering exactly what Chris was looking at. "You always find the magic in things."

"It's my job," Chris said. "It was. Now, Euan is my job and everything else comes after him." He let his voice trail off as the lights got even dimmer and the swirling lights seemed to slow down for just a second. Armie didn't seem to notice and moved to put an arm around Chris' shoulders, pulling him close.

"You ready? Should we get going?"

"Yeah, I think I'm good. I've got what I need."

"Can't wait to read it," Armie said, kissing Chris' forehead.

"Hold on one second, just let me soak it in for one more minute," Chris said.

"You ever shut that brain off?"

"Don't know how," Chris said, reaching for Armie's hand. Even in the dim light, even with the rainbow lights spinning around, Armie's smile beamed and Chris felt it all the way down to his toes.

*** 

"Euan Lewis Hammer," Chris said. "E. U. A. N."

"Group three."

"Thank you," Chris said. He put his sunglasses back on and followed the signs towards the children, who had just gotten off of a charter bus and were grouped together. He spotted Euan right away, but slowed his pace, wanting to watch him interact with his classmates. Teachers had already told Chris and Armie that he had a strong personality, always loved being the center of attention, and talked a lot, but Chris wanted to see it all for himself. At home, Euan was the center of attention, so it wasn't the right place to observe. But Chris saw it. Euan was in the center of the group, talking to just about everyone around him, showing off something in his open palm. As Chris approached he saw that it was a rock.

"Hi kids," Chris said, kneeling down. "How was the trip?"

"I got this rock," Euan said, smiling. He immediately bounded over to stand beside his dad. "It's limestone."

"That's very cool," Chris said. "Everyone has a ride home, right?"

Chris' ears were met with a resounding yes, almost in unison. And with that, he took Euan by the hand and they both waved as they walked towards the car. Chris was almost always first at pick up and today was no different. He liked beating the crowd, which always seemed to be running 20 minutes late. 

"Your dad's at work," Chris said. "He tried to come get you. Do you want to say hi to him on the phone?"

"Yes," Euan said. Chris tapped on his phone and handed it to Euan.

"Daddy's sorry," Chris heard. "I'll be home before dinner. I hope you had a good time at camp."

"I missed you," Euan said. Chris could feel Armie's heart breaking over the phone. "I want to show you my robot dinosaur."

"I'll see it in a little bit," Armie said. "Be good for your dad. I love you."

"Do you want to go to robot camp again next year?" Chris asked. The one-night trip nearly gave Chris and Armie a panic attack, because neither of them could remember ever spending a night at sleep-away camp, even just one night, at 6. But Euan's school said that he was perfect for the program, so they sent him off to build robots.

"Yes," Euan said. "But can you and daddy come, too?"

"I don't think we're allowed to go with you," Chris said, buckling Euan up in the back seat. "We missed you, too."

Back at the house, Euan made a beeline to his room upstairs while Chris opened up the back doors downstairs, letting in the ocean air. With Thanksgiving just a few days away, the rest of the country was experiencing actual fall, but the endless summer of Southern California wasn't letting up, even though the calendar said it was almost winter.

"Dad," Chris heard from upstairs. "Where is Dino?"

"Dino is in the dryer," Chris said. "Come down and get him."

Chris heard him bound down the stairs straight to the laundry room. In mere seconds, Euan was on the couch with his stuffed dinosaur, fresh from the wash. As Chris did his best to prep for dinner, Euan explained everything that happened the day before. While he was away, Chris and Armie found the quiet house almost foreign.

"Did you miss your dinosaur, too?"

"I wanted to take him with me," Euan said. His eyes were focused up on the ceiling and his stuffed dinosaur was sitting on his stomach. "But I needed him to watch you and daddy."

"Thanks for that, kiddo. We were glad to have him. He was probably too scared to spend an entire night away."

"He's brave," Euan said quickly. 

Dinnertime came and went, with Chris and Euan eating right at the kitchen counter. By the time Armie came through the front door and Euan rushed at him, it was already dark. "Did you already eat?" Armie asked, pulling Euan into his arms. "It's almost time for bed, isn't it?"

"It's a weekend tomorrow, do you want to read a story with daddy before bed?" Chris asked, leaning against the doorframe and watching the two of them.

"Go up and brush your teeth and I'll be right there," Armie said. He gave Euan a quick kiss on the cheek and he was off.

"Hey you," Armie said, coming over to kiss Chris. 

"I made dinner. Without you," Chris said. "I can warm some up."

"Things ran late. Clearly," Armie said, letting out a sigh. "I'll get him to sleep and I'll be right down."

Chris was still cleaning up when Armie came down the stairs, his eyes tired as he gave a weak smile. "We're almost done. This shouldn't happen again," he said. He wrapped his arms around Chris' waist and rested his chin on Chris' shoulder. "He fell asleep telling me about camp."

"We can't let him go again. I missed him too much," Chris said, leaning back against Armie's taller frame.

Armie chuckled in response. "Is dinner in the microwave? I'm starving."

Chris settled in on the back patio, laying down on the couch as his eyes focused on the inky black of the night sky. Armie sat across from him, shoveling spinach and pasta into his mouth. There wasn't much he could think of that made him happier. Knowing that Euan was upstairs, having Armie nearby and knowing that he had a book about to hit stores -- it was a mix of excitement, contentment, and nervous energy all at once.

"Did you get a haircut?" Armie asked, setting his plate down and reaching for his beer. "It looks good."

"One night away and he didn't even seem...I don't know, to miss us?," Chris said. "I figured we'd get a call to go get him."

"He was probably too occupied with building things," Armie said. "I'm surprised there are even programs for kids this age. We got lucky."

"I have to keep reminding myself that he's only six," Chris said, smiling. He let out a slow, controlled breath. "My book comes out next week. Did you see the box in the living room? It looks so good."

"I saw that it's for Euan and Armie," Armie said, setting his bowl down and sitting back. "I saw that it's very heavy and I saw that my husband managed to get Michael Chabon to write a blurb for him on the back. And Dave Eggers. And Nick Hornby. Pulling out the big guns."

"You know I don't have anything to do with that," Chris said. "I feel really good about this one. Really good."

"That's a nice change," Armie said. He'd seen Chris anxious, nervous, and even hesitant to release something. He heard about the times Chris wanted to change something, to halt printing altogether, even though he'd never actually done it. This confidence was great. Armie had read some of it already -- most of it, in fact -- and he could attest to how good it was. Critics were already writing great things. All that was left was for Chris to soak it all in. This book was a huge deal. It could, Armie thought, be the best of his career. He wasn't alone thinking that, either. He'd overheard Chris' conversations with his editor.

"Robbie is worried that Caleb is too shy," Chris said. "Imagine that."

Armie chuckled. Having an outgoing kid had brought Chris out of his shell, too. Armie saw it firsthand. Chris wasn't necessarily a quiet person, especially when they were alone, but now he was definitely more talkative, more open to speaking to people he didn't know, and even felt more comfortable during his radio appearances. He was still nervous when he was on TV -- Armie had to practically push him out onto stage every time he was on a late-night show -- but that was understandable. Thanks to Euan, Chris and Armie stepped up and became the faces of adoption, speaking on the subject as often as they could. They weren't official spokespeople, although Armie would say they were advocates. Much to his mother's chagrin, Armie focused all of his museum philanthropy to adoption charities and children's causes.

"You didn't have to cancel that trip to New York," Armie said.

"It's fine," Chris said, rubbing his face. Armie could have handled Euan, but Chris didn't know how comfortable he was with Armie's unpredictable schedule. He kept that to himself. "I have promo to do here."

Armie set his plate down and moved over to Chris' side, pulling their bodies together and curling into a familiar tangle. "I'm proud of you," Armie whispered. "More and more every day."

***

Thanksgiving was never one of Chris' favorite holidays until he'd met Armie. They made it a point to get away from everyone and everything. Montreal one year. Santa Barbara the next, with nothing but a quick stop at Armie's dad's compound to say hello and drop off a bottle of wine. Now that Euan was in the picture, however, there was less of a reason to escape to Venice, Italy, and stay in Venice Beach. Chris glanced at the back seat, where Euan was dozing off. He felt Armie's hand grab his over the transmission and he looked up at his husband.

"Wasn't so bad, right?"

"We survived," Chris said, chuckling. It wasn't exactly what he'd wanted Euan to associate with Thanksgiving -- catered food, wine pairings, and assigned seating -- but that's how Dru did it every year. They all heard stories of it, of Thanksgivings past with their grand meals and special guests. Maybe next year, Chris thought, they could go back to Santa Barbara and turn their phones off, just kick a ball around the yard, since the cottage had an actual yard and not just a tiny patch of grass. They could order Chinese food.

"Mom's really happy that your book is selling," Armie said.

"She's not the only one," Chris said. "My publishers are glad to have me go mainstream once in a while."

"Sorry that she goes on and on about movie rights and everything. You teach her about that one time and that's all she thinks about."

"She's glad that Euan's being taken care of," Chris said. "That his future doesn't depend on the whims of my fantasies and your uncertain directing."

"Ouch," Armie said. "My ego. But you're right. She'll lighten up. The TV show helped. Euan helped. She's mellowing out the more we look like a 1950s family."

Chris rolled his eyes. A 1950s family where nobody worked normal hours, where both parents happened to be in tabloid headlines occasionally, and where the kid was adopted and his biological parents were just two hours away. 

"You brought home leftover pie, right?" Chris asked.

"It's in the back," Armie said as they pulled into the driveway. "I'll get him into the house. You get the pie."

A few minutes later, Chris was leaning over the counter, picking at the pumpkin pie. It was still warm, too warm for it to be Thanksgiving, really. But being California, it wasn't a surprise. Chris pulled his sweater off, tossing it over a stool, leaving him in his undershirt. Dru hated when he showed up to dinner wearing his usual uniform of Henleys or T-shirts. 

"I could get used to this," Chris said. "I fall asleep in his bed all the time when I do it."

"I don't fit in that bed," Armie said, kissing the top of Chris' head. He'd undressed, too. His button-up was gone, but the tank top he wore underneath was still on. "And you don't either."

"Dinner went good, didn't it?" Chris said, reaching around Armie for the fridge. He pulled out some milk and Armie opened up a cabinet to get a glass.

"Like you said, she likes that we're settling down," Armie said. 

"Well, we survived," Chris said, taking one more bite of pie. He slid the plate over to Armie and settled onto a stool. "We need to figure out what's going to happen with your last week of production, though. You can't miss his playoff game."

Armie rubbed his face. "We got through my mom, but I guess it's not a real holiday without some of this."

"That's not what I meant," Chris said. "Just make sure you have Thursday night free and Saturday. Don't let the whole production get away from you."

"I can handle it," Armie said. "It won't happen again. We're almost done."

"Okay," Chris said. "I believe you."

"I won't miss practice or the game," Armie said, his words slow and measured.

"I'm not criticizing you," Chris said. "Don't take it that way."

"I'll be there," Armie said. "Do you want any more of this?" He gestured towards the pie. There  
wasn't much left.

"You can finish it," Chris said. "I'm going to take a shower." He grabbed his sweater and came around the island to give Armie a hug. "I'll see you upstairs."

***

Chris leaned against Armie, their hands tangled together as they stood on the sideline. Practice wasn't as exciting as a game, but the boys went through their drills and scrimmages with almost as much enthusiasm. Knowing that they had only one game left -- and that it was a playoff game -- seemed to light a little bit of a fire inside them and Chris could see a little spark in their eyes. Even though all the parents knew it wasn't that big of a deal, for the team, it was pretty much the biggest thing to ever happen to them.

"He's good. He'll make a hell of a striker," Armie said, his eyes locked on every move that Euan made.

"He's 6," Chris said. "Remember that before we ship him off to Barcelona."

"Maybe England. Didn't you tell me you dreamed of going to boarding school?"

"Dreaming about it and actually doing it is different," Chris said. "And I wasn't 6."

"That's it!" Armie yelled, squeezing Chris' hand as they watched Euan shoot towards the goal. Drill or not, it was always exciting to hit the net.

Chris resisted the urge to check his phone. Any time he was with Euan, he did his best to keep it in his pocket. But he was expecting sales figures to come through from Dave. If everything was going the way it had been, he was set to have the best sales of any of his books. It was a big deal, even though this was far from his first time. Surpassing his expectations, however, was always a thrill.

"Are we allowed to have some of those orange slices?" Armie asked, glancing down the sideline, where a few parents had already gathered. The crowd was mostly young parents and even though Armie and Chris were definitely not normal parents, they weren't treated any differently. They had to volunteer. They had to be part of the carpool, had to fundraise just like the rest of them. Chris had mentally tallied up all the time he'd spent shuttling Euan around -- going to his games and practices, and being part of the entire parent network -- and realized it was almost as many hours as it took him to write an entire novel.

"After the kids," Chris said. "But there's a banana in his bag."

"Is...Jennifer taking sips from a flask?"

"She normally pours it into her coffee," Chris said. There was plenty about the other parents Armie didn't know. Chris sometimes wondered what the other parents thought of him, but all it would take is a cursory Google search for them to find anything they needed to know. "I think the separation's been hard on her." He paused. "They always want to talk to me, but I can't really keep track of it all."

"Are you going to write a book about suburban moms and the decay of American ideals?"

"Isn't that every book I write?" Chris asked, reaching up to rub his hand against the warmth of Armie's stomach. "There's always something under the veneer."

"Not that you'd ever use Euan's AYSO team as inspiration," Armie said.

"No, of course not," Chris said, grinning. "It'd be too easy. I don't write summer beach reads."

"Do they all read your books?"

"They say they do. They have a book club, but it's probably more about wine than books."

"And the dads play golf. They've invited us."

"It's almost too easy," Chris said. "It's so typical I didn't think it was real at first."

"I'm sure they're good people," Armie said, his eyes still following everything on the pitch.

"Euan gets along with the kids, that's what matters the most."

"Are you guys gossiping?" Robbie said, making his way towards them. "Because you know everyone's gossiping about you."

"Can't win," Armie said. "When I'm not here, they talk trash. When I'm here, it's the same thing."

"Where's Sebastian?"

"Flirting with Jonathan Nunez's mom," Chris said, motioning over to the other side of the field. "Fresh off her divorce."

Armie and Robbie both looked over in that direction to see her squeezing Sebastian's bicep, laughing at something they couldn't hear. Armie wasn't aware of the drama that the parents were involved in, but Chris and Sebastian were well aware, whether they wanted to be or not. It was just what everyone talked about on the sidelines. They weren't immune to it, either. The other parents just had an easier way to figure out what was going on with Chris and Armie: People magazine. 

"Caleb's looking good," Armie said. "Like he's enjoying himself again."

"Euan convinced him to stay on the team," Robbie said. "I guess they had a talk after the last game. Even I couldn't do that. Greg is always telling me I have to let him do his own thing, but we all sort of want our kids to try out what we did, right?"

"Can't say I want Euan to go into acting," Armie said. "My parents didn't want that for me, either."

"Your dad basically disowned you," Chris said.

The shrill sound of a whistle made their heads whip towards center field. The last practice of the year was over. The kids all shook hands, exchanged a few hugs, and went over to the folding table. It was a combination of excitement for the last game of the year and bittersweet happiness. For the next three months, they wouldn't see each other or the pitch. 

"He's come around," Armie said. "Thankfully. Otherwise, how would I have ended up with you? You only date actors."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Let's go get him."

"Sebastian or Euan?" Armie asked, feigning a shrug.

"Our son. Our friend can take care of himself."

Chris made his way over to the snack table. He always tried to give Euan some time with his teammates, unlike some of the other helicopter parents, who rushed in right away to sweep their sons up and offer praise and thinly veiled criticism. Even though he was young, Chris figured he'd want a little bit of time without his dad looming. Chris glanced over his shoulder to see Armie speaking to some of the parents, comparing ideas about the game and, more importantly, it seemed, about what schools the kids would be going to, what studios were working on what, and even more normal things like what they'd be doing for Christmas. It was a weird place to network, Chris thought, but this was L.A. He saw people pitch ideas to Armie while they waited for coffee.

"You did so good today," Chris said when he reached Euan.

"We're going to win," he said, his eyes sparkling. He was exhausted, but Chris could feel the energy radiating off of him. "Did you see?"

"We saw," Chris said. "Your dad is excited. I'm excited. I can't wait for it."

"You look ready for Saturday," Armie said. "The whole team does."

"Go AYSO Region 20," Sebastian said, finally making his way over to them. "You looked great out there. You boys are going to take it all the way for sure."

With so much encouragement, there was no way they'd lose. Euan erupted in a fit of giggles as Armie pulled him up into his arms. With a cheerleading squad like this, there was no way the team could lose.

 

***

"Sebastian isn't his dad, Chris, I am."

Chris ignored the statement. "You're just running late already. Please don't miss kickoff."

"I'm leaving now. I have plenty of time," Armie said. He wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the truth, either. He'd done his best to keep everything on track, but since it was the last day of filming, everyone was a little more relaxed than they should be. If he left early, everything would be fine. He knew that. But the crew was a team. He needed to see this out to the very end.

"Last take, make it good," Armie said, waving his hand at the camera crew. He looked down at his monitors. "Make it good, please," he said softly.

"He's on his way," Chris said, turning to Sebastian and Euan. There was still time, but Euan was so excited that he'd bounded downstairs in his kit right after breakfast. Sebastian came over to carpool, but couldn't even sit down to have a coffee before Euan smothered him with a hug and a clear game plan of how he'd score. Chris wondered if he knew that the last game also meant he'd be off the field for a few months. He could relate. After all the buildup of a book release, there was a sudden and quick denouement. There was no way to prepare going from full throttle to having a completely clear schedule. Well, Euan had school. Chris and Armie had thinly veiled unemployment. 

"Let me make some coffee and I'll kick some ball with you outside," Sebastian said.

"I'll make the coffee," Chris said. "You guys run some drills."

"Kid, you're going to do great today," Sebastian said. "Take it easy. Don't wear yourself out."

"I don't get tired," Euan said, already grabbing a ball from the coat closet. As soon as he opened it, three or four spilled out. He dribbled two back into the closet, shutting it, and gently tapping the other towards the front door. Chris and Sebastian raised their brows in unison. "Sebastian, come on."

"God help me," Chris said. "He's going pro."

"He's six," Sebastian said, taking the coffee from Chris' hand. "You've got time. Did you tell Armie the started at 2?"

"Yes. That gives him an hour and a half to get there on time."

"He's going to be pissed."

"He'll be on time. That's what matters."

Chris and Sebastian were both right. Armie was on time and while he wasn't in the best mood after finding out he'd been the victim of scheduling shenanigans, the annoyance faded when the game started. He threw an arm over Chris' shoulders and watched the activity on the pitch. Armie felt lighter -- Chris could tell just by looking at him. With the movie wrapped, he could finally take a breath. Chris felt a kiss on his temple, the familiar scratch of stubble, and warmth spread down his back. Everything felt right.

"I talked to the coaches. I'm on for next year," Armie said. "I'm sorry this whole thing got out of hand. I'll be better."

Chris leaned into Armie. It would be better next year. Euan would be older. They'd be better with their time. Both of them were doing their best. There was a chill in the air, which made Chris appreciate the warmth coming off of Armie's body that much more. The other parents could cheer right now. Chris closed his eyes for just a second and let himself melt into the embrace.

"Things don't look good," Sebastian said. Chris jolted back to the moment, his eyes scanning Sebastian's face, which was marked with concern, and then jumping to the field. According to the score board, AYSO Region 20 was down. 

"Shit," Chris said under his breath. Suddenly, his focus was zeroed in on every move on the field. 

It's not that Euan never lost, he just took it very hard. Armie and Chris had both experienced the moping, the half-hearted smiles at post-game yogurt or pizza, and the subsequent quiet rides home. He always shook hands with the other team, but it was obvious he wasn't happy. Sportsmanship aside, it was understandable -- nobody liked losing. 

"There's still time," Armie said. "They can pull through."

Chris' grip tightened in Armie's hand as he took a deep breath. What had he read about being encouraging? He couldn't remember anything. One glance at the other parents confirmed what everyone was thinking. It didn't look great for their boys.

The whistle blew a few minutes later, with no change on the scoreboard. Armie leaned over to give Chris a quick kiss on the temple before he headed towards the center of the field, where the kids were supposed to be shaking hands and congratulating each other. Euan, in what must have been a combination of rage and disappointment, slammed the game ball to the grass and kicked it nowhere in particular -- except it went soaring towards Chris' head.


	3. Chapter 3

When Chris opened his eyes, all he saw was white ceiling. He felt Armie's hand holding his own and felt stale air all around. He blinked a few times to make sure he was understanding what he was seeing. He was in the hospital. He didn't know how, but he was.

"Armie," he said. "What's going on?"

Armie squeezed Chris' hand, mouthing something so quietly Chris couldn't hear. Chris looked around the room, trying his best to sit upright. A nurse came in and Armie gestured in his direction. Suddenly, a sharp ringing shot through Chris' ears and he recoiled, his hands coming up to cover them. Armie's face went white and the nurse looked concerned. He waved over someone else and several people came into the room.

"What's happening?" Chris asked.

Armie had his phone out, furiously typing. Chris looked at everyone's faces. Armie handed Chris the phone, which had a note typed out: "Concussion. Your eardrum ruptured in one ear. You can't hear anything right now. They're checking things out."

"What?!" Chris bolted upright. "I can barely hear anything."

"The doctor handed over an tablet, which had a similar note. "It should heal. This is temporary."

"How long?" Chris asked, his eyes wide. Another sharp sound. He fell back down to the pillow, his jaw tight as he tried to ride this one out. He groaned. "What is happening?"

"That should go away," Armie said, frustrated that Chris couldn't actually hear him. Another note. "Your brain is okay. No damage. You just had a mild concussion. They sedated you."

Chris was dumbfounded. He covered his eyes and took a few breaths. The doctors and nurses were talking to Armie and all Chris could make out were muffled sounds. If only one of his eardrums was torn, why was his other ear not working correctly?

"They have to do a few more tests now that you're awake," Armie's next note read. "Then, we can get out of here. Seb has Euan." Chris looked up at the ceiling, wishing that he'd had faster reflexes.

"Is daddy okay?" Euan asked from the back seat. Chris was sitting in a wheelchair and a patch over one ear. His didn't look happy.

"He looks okay," Sebastian said. "I'm sure he's fine."

"Hey, kiddo," Chris said as he scooted into the back seat. "Sorry about the game. You did so well."

"Is your ear okay?" Euan asked.

"It will be," Chris said, smoothing Euan's hair back. He could barely hear a word. "Are you okay?" 

"I got the golden boot," Euan said, showing Chris his trophy. Most goals scored in a season, it said in a simple engraver's font. 

"They'll put his name on it," Sebastian said, his eyes glancing in the rear view.

"He can't hear you," Armie said softly, hoping that Euan was doing enough to distract himself from the conversation. "It could be a while. We have to schedule a surgery. It's not unusual. It happens, but everyone heals differently."

"He can't hear anything?"

"It comes and goes," Armie said. "One of his eardrums is really bad. The other one isn't in good shape, either.”

"Damn," Sebastian said, his eyes focused on the road.

"We'll figure it out," Armie said. He glanced into the back seat to see Chris and Euan smiling over the trophy.

"I'm sorry I hurt your ear," Euan said, reaching up to touch the white patch on the side of his dad's head.

"You just have to control your temper," Chris said, a little louder than necessary. "Sportsmanship is important, more important than winning." Armie knew the tone. It was enthusiasm covering up Chris' fear and uncertainty.

"The 911 call and the concussion put a damper on the pizza party," Sebastian said. "The other parents said they'd reschedule since...well, yeah. You know."

Euan bounded towards the front door when they arrived back at the house, which surprised everyone, since they'd all expected a sour mood at least. It seemed that a trophy was enough to get him over the fact that his team had lost the big final, but relief washed over Armie, Chris, and Sebastian when he went upstairs, presumably to bask in the glory of being a golden boot winner. 

"I'm going to run the shower for him," Armie said. "Or do you need me down here?"

"I'll be fine," Chris said prematurely. He definitely wasn't. The house was eerily quiet, even though there was activity everywhere.

"We were supposed to get a Christmas tree tomorrow," Armie said. He motioned towards Euan, who was on his way upstairs already, "But this one's probably not in the best mood. And that one," he motioned to Chris. "I don't know what'll be going on with him."

"It's not permanent, right?" Sebastian asked.

"It's not supposed to be," Armie said, leaning against the counter. They watched as Chris took slow, deliberate steps around the living room. He settled down on the couch and locked eyes with Armie. "But you never know," Armie finished.

"I can't hear you," Chris said. "But I can see your mouths moving."

"This is going to be weird," Armie said. 

"It's weird," Chris said.

***

The first day was fine. The Christmas tree farm was more than fine. The tree went up without a problem and even though Chris was quiet, the three of them managed to do it without an issue. Armie had been preparing for the worst: Chris retreating into himself, staying quiet and solemn. Instead, he managed to put a smile on his face, pick out a tree with Euan, and did his best to keep a conversation going, even if it meant sending text messages to someone just a few feet away from him. Chris was taking notes, too. Armie didn't know on what, but he was typing away at his phone, thumbs flying as they drove from the house to the lot, while they waited in line at the coffeeshop, Euan's eyes wide when they spied cookies and pastries decorated for the season. The notebook Chris always had with him was full of scribbles and scrawling, outlines and figures. There was something brewing.

"He's working on something about a barbershop," Armie said to Euan. "Your dad's always got so many ideas."

"Is he doing a book or a movie?" Euan asked.

"Books come first," Armie said.

'Act normal,' Chris had sent Armie before they left the house. 'If we treat it like it's no big deal, he won't feel guilty.' The last thing either of them wanted was to make Euan feel bad.

"Pick out one," Armie said, pointing to the cookies. "We're going to take two lattes, one medium and one large, and whatever cookie the little guy picks out."

The barista tapped away at the iPad cash register, grinning as Euan pointed at a snickerdoodle cookie. "Your usual, Euan?" she asked. He blushed and nodded.

"It's getting busy," Armie said, handing over his debit card. "Christmas calls for extra caffeine."

"The most wonderful time of the year, they say," she said, grinning. "We'll have your drinks ready at the coffee bar. Thank you."

Armie flashed his usual movie-star smile, nudging Chris over a few steps and handing Euan his cookie.

"When we get home," Armie asked. "You want to get all of that into your computer?" He typed it all out to Chris as he said it.

"I'll need an hour, max," Chris said aloud. "Dinner with your mom is fine. Euan wants to show her his trophy."

Armie raised an eyebrow, "Whatever you say." He assumed Chris would want to hole himself away until he got his ear looked at again, to have some news -- good or bad -- but routine was something that gave him a sense of calm with everything being so chaotic. It had only been a few days. It felt like a lifetime to Armie, he couldn't imagine what was going on in Chris' head.

Euan practically sprinted over to a table outside. They went to the coffee shop so often it was basically an extension of the house. Euan knew which tables to go to, knew the employees, knew where they had books squirreled away for him. Chris followed him, sitting down and settling in. The world was weird without clear sound. He got startled more often, he didn't feel completely comfortable outside of the house, but he had to admit that it wasn't necessarily unbearable. He was hyper focused when he was brainstorming and writing. As he sipped his coffee and felt Armie's hand squeezing his leg, he wondered if it would be as jarring when the doctor patched up his eardrum.

Chris felt Armie's hot breath before he felt the scratch of his beard and then the soft warmth of his lips against his cheek. He shut his eyes for just a second, feeling the closeness. Euan was transfixed on the people and dogs walking by, taking tiny bites of his cookie.

"Last Friday dinner before Christmas? I'm sure she'll forgive us if we skip this one."

"It's no big deal," Chris said. "I mean it. I can't hear her, it'll be the best dinner we've ever had over there."

Armie rolled his eyes. He knew Chris was kidding, but Euan didn't need to hear it. "Cool. We can pick up something from the bakery down the street. Euan, do you want pie or cake?"

"Cake," he said.

"Maybe not after that cookie," Chris said, eyebrow raised. He sipped as his coffee and smiled as Euan blushed. This life: the cookies, the coffee, the giggles. The fact that they were on the same street that hosted the Sunday famers' market. Add to that the fact that they were just a few minutes from home. It was vague, but somewhere in the depths of his memory, Chris thought that maybe this is what he had, too. His parents weren't an actor and a writer, and they weren't in the public eye, but he could remember walking around Downtown Santa Barbara and sitting at places just like this.

"Ready?" Armie asked, reaching for Chris' hand. "Want another one to-go? We should get going."

Just then, the barista from the cash register stepped outside, another two coffees in her hands. "On the house," she said. "Happy holidays."

"Thank you," Chris said. He still didn't know if he was speaking at appropriate volumes, but he did his best. He turned to Armie, "Are you going to shave tonight? Your mom hates when your beard looks like this."

Armie shook his head. "Can you just clean up the edges? Last time I took it all the way down, Euan didn't even recognize me."

"You're exaggerating," Chris said. "Euan, do you think your daddy would look better without a beard?"

"No," Euan said matter-of-factly. "You don't have one, daddy has one. That's the way it is."

"That's the way it is," Armie said, shrugging. "Who am I to argue?"

The air was chilly by the time they got home, the setting sun starting to paint the sky pink and orange, even though it wasn't even dinnertime yet. Chris kissed the top of Euan's head, placed a second one on Armie's cheek and headed upstairs to get the ideas from his phone and notebook onto his computer. 

"Are you excited for Christmas?" Armie asked Euan, who knew automatically to wash his hands as soon as they got home.

"There are already presents under the tree," Euan said. "But there are none for you and dad."

"We don't need presents," Armie said, handing him a hand towel. "But maybe Santa will bring us some. You don't know until Christmas."

Euan smiled. "Jonathan's mom told me that dad is crazy. But I said he's not."

"He's not crazy," Armie said. "I don't think that's what she meant. But it's not nice. When did she say that?"

"After I kicked the ball into his head."

"What did she say exactly?"

"She said that if he wasn't already crazy, that what I did would make him crazy."

"She was trying to tell a joke," Armie said. "She didn't mean crazy like he's out of control. Some people don't understand him the way we do. You know how everyone was freaking out and we had to call the ambulance? Everyone was panicking and not being careful about what they were saying."

"I didn't mean to do it," Euan said. He'd apologized so many times that Armie had lost track.

"I know, kid. Nobody thinks you did it on purpose." Armie watched as Euan made a beeline for his toy cabinet, pulling out his Lego dinosaur and his notebook. He settled in on the couch and set about scribbling. "Are you writing a book, too?"

"Yes," Euan said.

"What's it about?"

Armie didn't want to hover, but he could see a few red scribbles alongside some blue. It was a graphic novel, he guessed. Euan had written stories before, but this didn't seem like one of those instances. Instead, he was intent on drawing. 

"Can you put on the Christmas music?" Euan asked without looking up.

"Yeah," Armie said, reaching for his phone. After a few taps and swipes, the living room filled with the cheerful melody of a holiday song.

"I'm writing about a motorcycle rider who finds a dinosaur."

"That sounds cool," Armie said. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Dad told me that one of his books is about a motorcycle man, but the story would be better if there was a dinosaur."

"Don't tell him that, okay? He's sensitive about his work."

"I told him," Euan said matter-of-factly. "He said that next time, he'd put a dinosaur in his book."

Armie leaned against the counter, smiling. All things considered, including Chris' eardrums, there wasn't much about all of this that wasn't making his heart soar. "I like when you don't have to go to work," Euan said. "So does dad. He told me."

"I like spending all day with you, too," Armie said. "But you're going back to school soon. And I'll have to go back to work soon, too."

"I need a new book," Euan said. "I'm on the last paper." He was on his way to the stairs before Armie could react.

"Don't startle your dad, okay?" Armie said. "He can't hear you coming."

Euan barreled upstairs and came to a screeching halt in front of his dad's office. He carefully stepped inside and waved his arms around, hoping to get Chris' attention. Chris' eyes darted around his computer screen, but he gave Euan a wave. Armie was messaging him from downstairs and the tiny grey speech bubbles popping up on the right side of his screen. "You want a big one or a small one?" Chris asked.

"Medium," Euan said. Chris couldn't hear, but he opened up a drawer and motioned for Euan to come over. He could take his pick. As Euan rifled through the vast selection, Armie appeared in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed. 'He's too fast for me,' popped up on Chris' computer.

"I'm almost done," Chris said. "I think we should get some flowers on the way for Dru. What do you think, Euan?"

He pulled out a medium-sized notebook with a bright orange cover. Chris couldn't even remember where he'd gotten that one. "Can I use this one?"

Chris nodded. "Are you writing about astronauts or dinosaurs? Astronaut dinosaurs?"

"Motorcycles and dinosaurs," Euan said. He shut the drawer and stood up, already cracking the spine of the journal and flipping through the paper.

"Why don't you put your markers into your backpack and you can finish in the car?" Armie said. "We should get cleaned up and get to grandma's house."

"Does grandma know that dad can't hear?"

"She does," Armie said. "But we don't need to bring it up."

Euan smiled and headed back to his markers, leaving Chris and Armie upstairs. "All good?" Armie asked, reaching over and giving Chris' shoulder a squeeze.

Chris shrugged, "I'll be fine. They'll fix me in a few days." He scanned the screen one more time. "Do you want me to trim your beard still?"

"Oh yeah," Armie said, rubbing at his face. "Yeah, let's do that."

Chris shut his laptop and stretched his hands up over his head. He got up out of his chair, following Armie out to the hallway. They turned in different directions, one to the bathroom and the other to the top of the stairs. "Euan, come up to your room and change your clothes," Chris said. "We're getting ready."

By the time Chris popped into the master bathroom, Armie already had his shirt off and shaving cream smeared across his jaw. "Ready?"

Chris took his usual spot on the counter with his back to the mirror. Armie stood between his legs, grinning. Slowly, Chris cleaned up Armie's neck, the straight razor moving in slow steady strokes as they both stayed as silent as possible. Chris could smell Armie, feel the heat coming off of him, shivered when Armie's fingers ran over his leg. They didn't do this that often, but Chris loved it, loved the close quarters and how still they had to be. As he worked his way around Armie's jaw, he leaned back to admire his work. 

"You're so handsome," Chris said softly, not even sure if he was saying it out loud. "It's unfair." 

Armie reached over for a towel and wiped off the excess shaving cream. Chris set the razor down and reached for electric clippers. The buzz made the experience less Zen, but it was part of the deal. Chris ran his free hand over Armie's chest, grinning as he clipped away some of the bulk on his beard. "How's it look?" Armie asked. 

Chris ran his hands over Armie's face and leaned in to kiss him. Feeling it against his face was the only way to know if it was the length he liked. He rubbed his cheek against Armie's and pulled his body close, savoring the contact. "Pretty good," Chris said, wrapping his arms around Armie's neck and pressing their foreheads together.

"I love you," Armie said. "I can't believe we're having another Christmas with Euan and my mom. Another one? It's so fast."

"I hope you're not saying something sentimental," Chris said. "You know I can't hear you."

Armie rested his head against Chris' shoulder. It didn't seem right to text it all, so he satisfied himself with just a few more moments of closeness.

"Daddy," Euan said from the bathroom door. "Can I wear my Vans?"

"Yeah," Armie said, half-sighing. "You can wear whatever you want except your soccer kit. Grandma probably wants to see you in actual clothes once in a while."

Chris hopped off of the counter and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it all back and smiling at Euan as Armie splashed his face with water. "Did you know that your dad has the bluest eyes in the whole world?" Chris said, reaching down to tickle Euan's stomach. He giggled and nearly doubled over. "C'mon, let's get you dressed."

***

One stop at the flower stand, where Euan decided that his grandmother deserved an entire bouquet of green roses, and they were at grandma's house in time to be just a few minutes late.

"Mom, why are there so many people here?" Armie asked, pulling his jacket off. Chris was kneeling down and pulling Euan's hoodie off when he realized that they were very underdressed. What was supposed to be a normal Friday-night dinner seemed to have morphed into a formal affair.

"What's going on?" Chris asked as he handed Dru the bouquet. "Should we reschedule?"

"Nonsense," Dru said. "It's just a cocktail party. Everyone should be gone before we sit down for dinner. It's progressive. They'll be at another party. Your beard looks nice, by the way."

"Progressive?" Armie said, eyebrow cocked. "Okay. Well, a little warning would have been nice."

Chris leaned over and gave Dru a quick hug. "We'll be in the kitchen," he said, ushering Euan along. "Party looks great."

"Do you want something to drink, honey?"

"I'm going to need one, that's for sure," Armie said.

"Should I wait for you to get a beer or should we talk about your plans now?"

"Shouldn't I mingle first? As the host, you should know that."

"Just tell me you're not taking my grandson away."

"We haven't figured anything out yet, mom. He has to finish the school year before we make any decisions about moving."

"Your father would love that, wouldn't he?"

"Mom, how many cocktails have you had?"

"Not one," Dru said, rolling her eyes. "He's squirreled away in Mendocino like some sort of hermit that happens to have a sailboat."

"That was a cheap shot," Armie said, letting his mom lead him through the sparse crowd. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits and the house was full of decorations. If this was a normal Friday, he might have enjoyed looking at it all with Chris and Euan. "Dad has nothing to do with it. We have a house up there. You know that. We want what's best for Euan. There are soccer camps up there. Good schools." He shuffled over to the bar and snagged a bottle of Stella Artois, taking a long gulp before finishing, "But there's some stuff here, too. We haven't figured it out."

"Christopher always did love a circular narrative structure," Dru said. "Taking things back to where they started is a lazy trope."

"It's actually one of the most difficult ways to construct a story," Armie said. "But like I said, we haven't decided."

Chris grabbed a glass of water for Euan, leaning down to hand it to him, "Kiddo, you know I can't hear you right now, so if you need anything, you're going to have to ask your dad, okay?"

Euan nodded. Chris grabbed his backpack and pulled out the trophy he was so intent on showing his grandmother. Euan grabbed it happily. Chris zipped the bag back up and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm going to put this upstairs," he said. "I'll meet you at the big tree after you show that off."

"Daddy," Euan said, pulling on Armie's hand. "Look, grandma, I got golden boot."

"I know!" Dru said, hugging Euan and admiring the trophy. "I heard all about it."

"Show grandma your goal celebration," Armie said, grateful for something to lighten up the mood. This whole party felt like a back step for their sometimes-rocky relationship and Chris wasn't even involved yet. He scanned the room looking for Chris, already knowing that he wouldn't be around.

"Everyone on the team says that I'm the best striker," Armie heard Euan say. "Robbie says that I could be a good winger, but I want to be a striker."

Chris saw Euan down on his knees, both arms stretched up over his head and knew exactly what was happening. "Decorations look great, Dru," Chris said.

"Thank you," she said. "Dinner should be ready in just a little bit. Everyone is saying their goodbyes. I'm so proud of Euan. Of all of you. So many great things happened this year."

"Cheers to that," Armie said, raising his beer. "I'm sure there will be even more great stuff next year, no matter where life takes us."

"Since when have you been hosting progressive cocktail parties?" Armie asked when they were all sitting around the dining room table. Euan already had his Lego dinosaur robot scooting between the platters of roast beef and mashed potatoes.

"It's something we just started," Dru explained. "It's fun! We have appetizers at one person's house, more at another house, and then drinks or dinner. We carpool, so don't even worry about us drinking."

"I'm not worried," Armie said, helping himself to more Brussels sprouts. "You're all adults."

"Next year, I get to be a tiger," Euan told Dru. "And I hope they make me team captain and I can be MVP."

"Are you interested in things other than soccer?" Dru asked.

"Robots," Euan answered confidently.

"He's going to be a programmer or a professional athlete," Armie said. "Chris is sure that he's definitely not going go into either family business."

"Everyone has to find their own way," Dru said. "You certainly did. I'm sure Chris' parents weren't thrilled about him wanting to be a writer."

"His grandparents didn't think much of it. They didn't have time. He had a book deal as soon as he graduated from college," Armie said.

"You guys aren't talking about me, are you?" Chris asked.

Armie shook his head and Euan nodded, which didn't take the look of confusion off of Chris' face. 

"Does anyone want some cake?" Chris asked, just as cluelessly.

"Daddy," Euan asked. "When you were 6, what did you want to be?"

"I wasn't good at soccer like you are and I wasn't as smart as you are," Armie said. "I probably wanted to be businessman like my dad. Or a pilot."

"He wanted to be a fighter pilot," Dru said. "There was a movie that came out the year he was born and when he was younger, he would watch it on TV because we had a videotape."

Armie reached over and put his hand on top of Chris'. He reached in his pocket for his phone, 'Ready for dessert?'

"Did Euan give you your gift?" Chris asked Dru before he checked his phone.

"Yes," she said. "Thank you all. It was so thoughtful. So beautiful."

"Chris' operation is the day after Christmas," Armie said "So we're going to be out of commission until the new year. And Euan will be back in school by then so we're just going to be back to normal Friday dinners, right?"

"Sounds about right," Dru answered.

There was a tiny pause. "I'm grateful that Euan has his grandmother in his life," Chris said, seemingly out of nowhere. "I had a very special relationship with my grandparents and I'm very happy that he's got a grandma that loves him and is always so happy to see him."

"Merry Christmas," Armie said, smiling. Even when he had no idea what was being said, Chris managed to say the right thing at the right time.


End file.
